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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24870085">Sleepover</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/PussNHikingBoots/pseuds/PussNHikingBoots'>PussNHikingBoots</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Prodigal Son (TV 2019)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Ainsley is not amused, Bubble Bath, Crying, Dani Powell mention only, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Existential Angst, F/M, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, Jessica Whitly mention only, Mental Anguish, Naked Brother makes an appearance, Sort Of, This is not The Hotel New Hamshire, bag of peas, but I'm not sure if I'm using that tag correctly, cause the hurt is offscreen, thoughts of self harm</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 09:40:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,945</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24870085</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/PussNHikingBoots/pseuds/PussNHikingBoots</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Malcolm is released from the hospital after the John Watkins incident. Ainsley and her best friend stay over to help him out. They eat pizza and watch a movie. Oh, and there's a bathtub handjob and a whole lot of crying.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Malcolm Bright &amp; Ainsley Whitly, Malcolm Bright &amp; Original Female Character(s), Malcolm Bright &amp; Sunshine the Bird</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Hospital</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I think on the show, Malcolm just has a shower stall in his bathroom, but I gave him a bathtub for reasons.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">After three weeks convalescing in the hospital, Malcolm Bright is set to be released today. He had undergone two surgeries: one to save his life and one to save his hand. The doctors seemed more worried about the knife wound, but Malcolm was decidedly more worried about his hand. It hurt a hell of a lot more, would take a lot longer to heal, and how well it healed, well or poorly, would be with him for the rest of his life. As the majority of the physical pain started to wane, he would sometimes flash upon the mental trial that he had just undergone. Imprisoned and tortured by his father’s friend, John Watkins. He tried not to let those thoughts into his head while he was being monitored at the hospital. Far better to save that type of trauma processing for when he was back at home, alone.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">During his stay, he had had a steady stream of visitors between his family and his team. Always at least one person coming in to check on him, sit with him, ask how he’s doing.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Gil sits on the edge of the hospital bed with one hand resting on the blanket over Malcolm’s knee. A habit that started when Malcolm was a child, Gill found that a gentle but firm hand on the back of Malcolm’s neck or arm had the effect of grounding the kid. Chronically concerned for Malcolm’s well-being, it also reminded Gil that Malcolm was still present and alive. “Don’t get any ideas about coming back to work so soon, kid. You’ve been through an awful lot and even though they’re releasing you today, I don’t think you’re ready to come back yet.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Gil-“ Malcolm opens his mouth to protest.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Gil cuts him off. “Even if you <em>think</em> you’re ready, the answer is No.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“But Gil-“</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“No, Malcolm.“ Bright blows the frustration audibly out his nose. “That’s final. I want you to stay home for at least another two weeks before I see you back in the field.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Two weeks! You can’t do that to me. What am I going to do for two weeks? I’m <em>fine,</em> Gil.” When he sees the look on Gil’s face, he tries pleading down. “How about two days?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Gil shakes his head sadly. ‘I’m fine’ was Malcolm-code for ‘I’m not at all fine but I don’t want anyone to know, and I don’t want to talk about it.’ Once he started doing that ‘I’m fine’ thing, Gil knew better than to press the issue. “I’m just glad you’re alive and that you’re going home today. You’re probably going to need some help once you’re home. Do you have anybody to help you?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Yes. Ainsley and her friend are staying over tonight. I tried to talk them out of it, but they insisted.” Malcolm shrugs, giving an exaggerated eye roll and goofy smile designed to put Gil at ease. “I guess I am outnumbered. Here’s Maddie now.“ He nods in the direction of the door where a young woman with long brown hair and an impressive rack is just entering.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Madison is Ainsley’s best friend since grade school. They spend a lot of time together, though the amount has gone down significantly since both of them have become adults. Malcolm remembers her fondly from childhood. She was one of the few kids whose parents allowed her to play with the ‘serial killer children,’ even sleep over. It’s no wonder Ainsley was so close to her. Back then, Malcolm thought she was sweet and cute and terribly naïve. So open and trusting. If she had been older, she would not have stood a chance against his father. But that was ages ago. Once he left for Harvard, he did not see her again. Until recently, when he came back to the city.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Malcolm introduces them, and Gil takes that as his cue to leave. But he waits outside, anxiously looking in the window at the two.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Madison takes Gil’s seat on the side of the bed and Malcolm immediately reaches for her hand with his good one. His big expressive eyes are wide and pleading at her, brow furrowed. “You’re staying with me tonight, right?“</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Yes, of course. And Ainsley, too. We haven’t forgotten about you.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He gives her a little smile and squeezes her hand, and she leans in to kiss his temple. Madison was not a little girl anymore and Malcolm and her had hit it off immediately upon their reunion. It was debatable now as to whether she was Ainsley’s his best friend or his. With a shared childhood history, he trusted her implicitly and found himself divulging things to her that he usually kept to himself. She was still so open and trusting. It quickly became a very intimate friendship in more ways than one. He was thankful that she was not interested in being boyfriend/girlfriend. He didn’t think he could handle that. He was thankful that she was involved romantically with a few other man, maintaining a polyamorous lifestyle, though not seriously involved with anyone at the moment. Things had only gotten sexual between them recently, and even then not in the traditional sense. Being with her felt more grounding than romantic. There was none of the butterflies-in-the-stomach-frantic-passionate-kisses that he had experienced with Eve, his most recent romantic encounter. But he liked how affectionately handsy Madison was with him and how open. She would just tell him she loved him flat out like it was nothing. Like he was family. She made him feel a little less broken. A little bit ok.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">From the hallway, Gil nodded silently. It looked to him that the two had some type of connection, and Gil felt relief that somebody would be taking care of his boy tonight. He would stay with him himself if Malcolm would let him, but he knows that’s not an option. Kids are a heartache, even when they’re not technically your own.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Shower</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Malcolm was amused by the hospital policy that forced him to be wheeled out to the car in a wheelchair. Once outside the hospital doors, he was allowed to stand and walk on his own. God forbid he should fall while still inside the hospital and sue them. Malcolm‘s mother had sent the car around to pick him up from the hospital and drop him off at his place. Ainsley would meet them there. Without consulting Malcolm about it, Jessica had given his sister a copy of his keys so she could let herself in. Privacy was not something that Malcolm‘s family allowed him for any length of time.</p><p>Madison and Malcolm went up the stairs to the loft. She noticed the subtle way he walked a little faster to get in front of her so he could open the door with his right hand. The one without the cast. She recognized his need to not feel completely helpless, and unlike his mother, she tried to respect that, though she did enjoy lavishing him with TLC when he allowed it.</p><p>Ainsley was already inside, predictably absorbed in her laptop, trying to get a jump on her next story for work. Jessica had sent somebody over yesterday to clean the place and stock the fridge. Sunshine, Malcolm’s parakeet, was chirping happily on Ainsley‘s shoulder, having spent the last few weeks at her place while Malcolm was in the hospital. Before she had sat down to her laptop, Ainsley had done her part to prepare for the evening. She’d fed Sunshine and cleaned out her cage, pulled fresh towels from the closet for the three of them for tomorrow morning, and set out linens and blankets for tonight. It was kind of obvious that Ainsley would be the one on the couch and Madison would be sharing the bed with Malcolm. She was still getting used to thinking of the two of them together. Her best friend and her brother. They have such a weird relationship now, Ainsley is not sure what to make of it. She has tried asking Madison about it, but it just seems to confuse the matter more.</p><p>‘Are you fuck buddies?’<br/>‘We’re not fucking, so… At least not yet.’<br/>‘Are you friends with benefits?’<br/>‘Oh, I hate that term. It implies that both parties are not really interested in the other and are just using each other‘s bodies until they find ‘the one.’ Gag.’<br/>‘So what are you?’<br/>‘We’re just friends.’<br/>‘Oh, come on, you’re not just friends.’<br/>‘Yes we are, it’s just that most people’s idea of friendship is limited, and ours is not.’</p><p>Try untangling that mess. She supposes he needs a confidant besides herself. She’s so busy with work these days, and despite her knowing about all of his issues, he still likes to play strong big brother. Madison is somebody that he doesn’t have to be strong around. She guesses he probably needs that. She stops what she’s doing long enough to greet them when they come in the door.</p><p>“Welcome home, bro. Doing OK?”</p><p>“I’ll live. Thanks for coming. Both of you. I’m not sure if I would’ve wanted to come home to an empty apartment.” On cue, Sunshine gives a loud chirrup and flies off Ainsley’s shoulder to land right on Malcolm‘s cast, chattering enthusiastically at his return.</p><p>“Aww, she missed you,” says Madison reaching out to stroke the bird’s puffy little cheek. “No problem. It will be fun. Food, movie. Our own little sleepover!”</p><p>Malcolm forces a smile of agreement that does not go unnoticed by Madison. “What do you need, Bright?“ She asks him.</p><p>“I feel pretty gross from the hospital. I could probably use a shower.“ He holds the bird up to eye level, cooing and kissing at her. “Missed you, too, sweetness.”</p><p>“Are you allowed to take a shower with that cast?”</p><p>“Well, I have to be careful about it. They gave me this thing to put around it to keep it dry. I guess I am going to need help with that.”</p><p>Madison moves Sunshine onto her own shoulder and helps him pull his shirt off and secure the plastic sleeve around the cast. He seems to be confident enough that he can take off the rest of his clothing himself.</p><p>“OK. You go take a shower. Ainsley and I will search for a movie. Don’t worry. We’ll try to find something not too heavy.“ They both know he has been through more than he has copped to and were painfully aware of triggering him with the wrong type of movie. Maybe someday he would feel comfortable enough telling them what actually happened, but neither one of them was holding their breath for that.</p><p>Madison plops down on the sofa beside Ainsley, Sunshine fluffing out her wings at the jostling before settling again. “Whatcha got there, Ains?”</p><p>“Just something for work.” She turns the screen towards her friend and walks her through the latest video. Madison lets her go on because she knows how obsessed with her job Ainsley is. But she’s waiting till she can ask the question that’s really on her mind.</p><p>“Is it still weird at work with Jin?” Some time has passed since he broke it off with Ainsley, but they still have to work together, and that must be difficult.</p><p>“It’s a little weird. But we both try to keep it professional.”</p><p>“I wouldn’t expect any less from you, Ains. Is it just me or is Malcolm taking a long time in the shower?”</p><p>Ainsley frowns. “Hmm.”</p><p>“He’s OK, right?” asks Madison with concern.</p><p>“Maybe you should check on him.“</p><p> </p><p>•••••••••••••••</p><p> </p><p>Madison walks over to the bathroom door and gives it a tap. “Malcolm?” No answer. The shower is running, though. Maybe he doesn’t hear her. Maybe he’s just taking a long time because he’s been in the hospital a long time and probably didn’t have a decent shower during his stay. “Malcolm?” A little louder. She opens the door a crack. “Malcolm?” Still no answer. She opens the door fully and walks in. She was right. Something is wrong.</p><p>Malcolm is curled up at the base of the tub with his left side pressed against the wall and his right hand hugging his knees, naked, wet, and staring into space. “Malcolm!” She starts to rush towards him, then backs up to yell over her shoulder “Ainsley!“</p><p>Ainsley comes running in, alarmed by her cry. She bursts into the bathroom, sees Malcolm, and immediately puts her hand up to block the view. “Oh my God. Naked Brother.“</p><p>“Shut the water and hand me that towel,” says Madison, all business. Ainsley has to admit, Maddie is always good in a crisis. She seems to have an endless array of solutions for how to make somebody more comfortable, at least physically. Ainsley reaches out and turns off the water, then gets the towel, all the while keeping her eyes averted from her brother’s naked body, even though he’s curled in on himself and nothing pertinent is really visible.</p><p>Madison is now crouched beside the tub, softly calling his name. “Malcolm? Malcolm? Ground control to Major Tom.” She waves her hand in front of his unseeing eyes. He’s not coming out of it, and she’s not sure what to do. She’s afraid to touch his face in case he startles, but she needs to get his attention somehow. She drapes the towel lightly over his knees and does the best she can to tuck it in around him, at least covering most of his lower half. He still doesn’t move or even blink. He’s shivering a little is all. But otherwise, motionless.</p><p>Once the towel is in place, Madison steps aside and indicates to Ainsley to give it a try. Ainsley is a little more bold. After calling his name, she reaches out her hand and sharply slaps him a few times on his cheek. Just hard enough to get his attention. Finally, he blinks and turns his head towards her.</p><p>“Wha-?” His glazed eyes adjust and he looks around him, taking in his predicament.</p><p>“Malcolm, what happened?” asks Madison.</p><p>“I…don’t know?”</p><p>“You don’t remember? What’s the last thing you do remember?” asks Ainsley.</p><p>“I remember coming home from the hospital. I remember you helping me put this stupid plastic thing on my arm. That’s it. I must’ve spaced out.”</p><p>“Spaced out?” Ainsley sounds dubious. “Sounds like you lost time. You’ve been in here for 40 minutes.”</p><p>“OK,” he concedes. “I guess I lost time. But I don’t think I actually took that shower. I still feel gross.”</p><p>“Do you want to try again?” Ainsley asks.</p><p>“No. Yes. I–“</p><p>“How about a bath instead?” offers Madison, hearing his hesitation.</p><p>“Oh, that’s a good idea. A bath sounds good. I think I can do that.”</p><p>Madison flips the tub lever down and starts the bath running while Ainsley leaves her to it. “Don’t move. I’ll go get your bath stuff.” They have taken a bath together before on what turned out to be one of their more erotic nights, so she knows where all the stuff is and figures Epson salts are a must at the moment. He also likes his bubble bath that bubbles up impressively and smells like coconut and jasmine. And a padded bath pillow to lean against. She brings all that back and arranges it in the tub for him. She has entered full-on nurturing mode, and he probably cannot help the relief in his eyes. “Do you need anything else?”</p><p>“Nope. I think I’m good. Thank you.”</p><p>She gets up to walk out of the bathroom and starts to pull the door closed behind her.</p><p>“Wait! Um, maybe leave the door open? Just in case?”</p><p>“Sure. Do you want it cracked or wide open?”</p><p>“Cracked is fine.”</p><p>She pulls the door to cracked-open. “Wait! Maybe you can leave it wide open?”</p><p>“No problem.” She opens it all the way and starts to step out. “Wait! Um, there should be a book on my night table. Maybe you could get that for me?”</p><p>“Sure.” She is infinitely patient with him. Fetches the book and hands it to him, assuming that he will figure out some way to read it in the bathtub one-handed. She starts to walk out again. “Wait! Um… Maybe you can read it to me?” he asks softly as if his request might be denied.</p><p>She pauses to look at him. He’s not saying what he really wants. But she understands anyway. He’s afraid to be alone. So she sits down on the closed lid of the toilet, opens the book to where he had bookmarked it and begins to read aloud.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Bath</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">Ainsley is still on the couch, working on her laptop. She can hear the soft sounds of Madison’s voice filtering out into the main room and the splishing of bathwater as Malcolm does his best to clean his body with one hand and a washcloth. She’s glad Madison is handling this. She would do it if she had to, but if she can avoid Naked Brother, that suits her just fine. She can hear Malcolm’s phone vibrating from inside the plastic bag he brought home from the hospital, but she ignores it.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">She comes to a good stopping point in her editing and gets up from the couch, walking over to the bathroom. She stands just inside the door. The bubbles are, thankfully, hiding anything she might not want to see, so it’s safe for her to look at the both of them. The book is open face down on the toilet lid and Madison is sitting on the edge of the tub. She dips a plastic cup into the bathwater. “Tilt your head back and close your eyes.” Malcolm does as he’s told, and she gently pours the water over his shampooed hair, her other hand pressed to his forehead to prevent it running into his eyes. She repeats this one more time and then reaches for the bottle of conditioner and pours some onto her hand.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I’m going to go down and get us smoothies,” says Ainsley. “What do you guys want? Malcolm? The usual?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Yes, that sounds good. Wait, wait!” He runs through some of the flavors in his head, his mouth moving to silently verbalize them. “Yes, the usual,” he confirms.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Madison smooths the conditioner over his wet locks. “I’ll have that chocolate cherry thing they have. And if for some reason they don’t have that, then the blueberry coconut thing is good.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Got it. Be back soon. We can order pizza when you’re done with the bath.” Ainsley grabs her purse and disappears out the door.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Let’s give that conditioner a minute or two before rinsing it out. Would you like me to massage your shoulders while we’re waiting?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He nods and hangs his head down in anticipation. He knows that she enjoys giving him massages. Touching him, in general. He actually relishes her touches. Other than Eve, nobody has touched him so tenderly in years. Though he doesn’t like to admit it out loud, he enjoys the pampering that Madison is only too willing to provide.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">She kneads her fingers slowly into his shoulders, her thumbs pressing into the back of his neck. She can feel the tension, like a coil ready to spring. It’s much worse than before the incident. Of course it is. How can anybody come out of something like that unscathed? She knows he is a lot worse off than he has yet shown. And she wants to do everything she can for him while he is letting her. He groans softly under her hands, starting to relax a little. The touch feels so good. She moves her hands down to rub his back and push her thumbs gently to either side of his vertebrae, working her way down his spine. She can feel him loosening up a bit. That encourages her to press a little more. She hits the areas just underneath his shoulder blades and up along his clavicle. She knows to avoid the place where the knife wound is still black with stitches that won’t be removed for another two weeks. His head is bowed, eyes closed, and he’s making little sounds of pleasure. She is just as pleased to see that he is comfortable and enjoying himself.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He reaches over with his good right hand to grip onto the wrist of her left. He slowly pulls her hand down towards his stomach and down further still. She raises her eyebrows. Pretty sure she knows where this is going, but surprised just the same. He guides her hand right to his erection that has been hidden underneath the bubbles. She grips it with familiarity, unmoving, but hums a gentle question, nonetheless.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Please. I need-“</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“What?” She swallows. This is something new. She knows what he wants, but this seems like a hell of a time.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I need to come. Please. I need it.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">She’s a little taken aback. He’s said that kind of thing to her before, but only after long into a sexy session. In other words, in context. Right now, it seems completely out of context.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Ainsley will probably be back any moment.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“It won’t take long. I promise.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He seems desperate. And she’s a sucker for making him orgasm. She just loves it. So she begins to move her hand over his soapy member. She knows his body well enough by now to have some idea of what he likes, but this is still a novelty and even though she feels a little guilty for the timing of it, it is thrilling. She works his cock with her left hand and strokes through his conditioner-soaked hair with her right. Gotta remember to rinse that out, she thinks to herself. His breathing is already getting heavier. Maybe he really will be done before his sister returns. His right hand and both feet are pressing into the walls of the tub. His whole body seems to be vibrating almost like the shivering from earlier. It gives her a twinge of concern to have made a link between those two things.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Ahh. Ahh,” his noises are amplifying and Ainsley is coming up the stairs. Neither one of them notices when the door opens.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">And then Ainsley is there at the entrance to the bathroom. “Hey guys, I got the-“ Tone shifting lower. “Oh, you have <em>got</em> to be kidding me!” She knows exactly what is going on even if she can’t actually see it. She storms into the kitchen to store the smoothies in the refrigerator, and Madison gets up quickly to shut the door, Malcolm gasping in dismay at the sudden loss of her hand.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Shit, Malcolm!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">His clear blue eyes pull her right in. “Please,” he says in a tiny voice.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">”This is not cool, Bright. Your sister is in the next room. She can probably hear us. Even with the door shut.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Please.” He tries again, wheedling. “I’m so close.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Jesus fucking Christ, Bright!” Madison knows she is beat. She pushes her hand back into the water to resume her administrations, grabs his wet hair roughly with her other hand and makes him look at her. “Shhhhhh,” she hisses at him. “<em>You</em> have to be quiet.” It’s a loud whisper. He nods against her hand holding his hair, eyes locked on hers and manages to be quiet for all of the next 30 seconds.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Then he is bucking up into her hand, mouth open, gasping and whining. “Oh God. Oh God.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">She increases the speed and watches his face, utterly fascinated. She feels a little bit like a shit friend thinking that apologies are easier than permission. But then, maybe it’s worth it. His cock is pulsing so hard underneath her palm. He’s slapping the side of the tub with his good hand, a sharp yell letting loose from his lungs, stomach muscles clenching. And he keeps coming and coming and coming. It’s bizarre. This has not happened before. She keeps her hand on him, keeps her grip strong and moving, but a little unsure when to stop because he hasn’t stopped yet. She has a puzzled look on her face as she continues to stare into his. His eyes are squeezed shut, his mouth open with a keening kind of sound emanating. Finally, the pulsing dies down. His sounds die down into sharp little intakes of breath.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“What the fuck, Malcolm? What was that?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Don’t know. I guess I’ve been in the hospital the whole time. I guess I was just…overdue.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">She is suspicious of that answer, sensing something darker underneath it, but she sighs, rolls her eyes, and gets to work rinsing the conditioner out.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">They emerge from the bathroom, both looking a little guilty, a little shy. He’s got a towel wrapped around his waist and she’s got water drenching the front of her blouse.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">From her place on the couch, Ainsley glares daggers at them.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I’m so sorry,” starts in Madison. “It’s just that you were out getting smoothies-“</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“-and you were quicker than we expected,” chimes in Malcolm.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“And he wasn’t as quick as we expected,” adds Madison, unable to hide a lopsided grin.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“It was my idea,” Malcolm taking the guilt, as always.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I told him to be quiet,” says Madison.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“She closed the door,” offers Malcolm, but it sounds lame.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Ainsley stands up and stares at them both in disbelief. “You realize I’m going to be traumatized after this. As if Naked Brother isn’t bad enough. I had to listen to Orgasm Brother, too?! <em>Eww</em>!” Then she abruptly changes her tone, knowing that she can’t win with these two and their unconventional antics. “What do you guys want on your pizza?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Couch</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">“You <em>are</em> going to put the laptop away during the movie, aren’t you, Ains?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Relax. I’m putting it away. You know what I’m <em>not</em> going to do? I’m not going to give my brother a <em>hand</em> <em>job</em> during the movie!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Madison snorts. “Well, now we may as well watch The Hotel New Hampshire.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Please, Maddie! You have been trying to get us to watch that forever. You do realize that I do not find my brother sexually attractive, don’t you?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Oh, I know. But it’s a great movie and it’s not <em>only</em> about incest. But on the other hand, it does have some serious moments in it. Maybe we should find something a little lighter.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Madison wraps her arms around Ainsley, giving her a fierce hug and kissing her repeatedly all over her hair and forehead. “Forgive us, Ains. You know we love you.” Ainsley swats her away. But she’s smiling.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">They end up finding a forgettable romcom to watch. Cute and funny enough for the occasion, but also predictable and cloying. Nobody’s first choice, but it will do.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">•••••••••••••••</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Everybody is now comfortable and cozy in their PJs on the couch with smoothies and pizza and a dumb movie to watch. They couldn’t agree on toppings, so they got three different pizzas. There will be plenty of leftovers and it never hurts to have more food in Malcolm‘s fridge with the hopes that maybe he will actually eat some of it.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Malcolm’s phone buzzes several more times, and Ainsley implores him to at least turn it off if he isn’t going to answer it. Reluctantly, he gets up and digs around in his bag from the hospital to find the phone and sees that his mother has called once and Gil three times. Dani has called also. Just once, but it warms him to see it. He doesn’t feel like talking to any of them right now.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Madison sits in the middle, flanked by her two best friends in the world. Her and Ainsley are keeping up a relatively steady stream of comments regarding the movie and other topics. The movie isn’t interesting enough to stay fully focused on and isn’t smart enough to worry about missing something. Ainsley and Madison have gone through a couple of slices of pizza and finished their smoothies. Madison glances over at Malcolm to see that his smoothie is about halfway gone and he’s made a small dent in just one slice of pizza, a semi circle bitten out of the side of it, including part of the crust. She is about to open her mouth to comment when she thinks better of it. He’s an adult. He can decide what he wants to eat or not eat. And she’s not his mother. But God, it is difficult to bite her tongue.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Normally, Madison would be all snuggled up against Malcolm by now, maybe surreptitiously stroking the Inside of his thigh, but he’s emanating a DO NOT TOUCH vibe that’s palpable. Occasionally, she still reaches cautiously over to pet his damp hair. Malcolm’s silence is worrisome. He usually loves to talk during movies, profiling the characters to the point of annoyance. He points out every inconsistency; why it makes sense that the character would do or say this thing but not this other thing. It’s hard to get him to shut up.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">About an hour in, Madison realizes that Malcolm is not next to her anymore. Assuming he has gotten up to use the bathroom, she glances over that way. Hmm. Well, unless he decided to use the bathroom with the door open and no light on, he probably wasn’t in there. She swivels around in her seat to see where he might be. Over by his bed? In the kitchen? He’s nowhere to be found. “Ainsley, did you see Malcolm get up? Where did he go?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Ainsley also gives a quick look around. No Malcolm. “Maybe he went outside? Strange of him not to say anything, though.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">After the incident earlier, Madison feels compelled to check the shower, despite the dark bathroom. She peaks in. He isn’t there, but she takes the opportunity to use the facilities. She is on her way back to the couch when she stops dead in her tracks. “Malcolm.” It comes out as a whisper and her breath hitches in her throat. Ainsley hears her, knows something is wrong, stops the movie and gets up.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Malcolm is sitting on the floor with his back pressed up against the back of the couch. He has that same glassy-eyed look from earlier, staring forward at nothing. Madison crouches down next to him, touching his arm, careful to avoid the cast. “What do you need?“ He blinks, but continues to stare. Ainsley kneels down by his other side, hands on her knees. “What’s going on, Mal? Talk to us.“ No answer. Ainsley and Madison exchange worried glances over his head. They sit with him for a while, saying nothing. Holding space for whatever is going on inside of him. Slowly, he starts to shift and change.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Malcolm’s right hand starts to tremble along with his lower lip. Madison wonders if his left hand would be trembling, too, were it not for the cast. His breath, which previously was shallow but even, changes to something more erratic and audible. Hitching up in gasps that sound like it could turn to hiccuping or hyperventilation any moment. His pale cheeks are pinking up and his eyes begin to fill. It looks like he’s getting ready to cry buckets, but trying to hold back. Madison can see he only needs a gentle push. She runs a flat palm across the back of his neck and leans her head in until her forehead is touching his temple. Cupping his head closer to hers, she whispers to him, “It’s OK to let go. We’re here for you. You’re safe.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">His whole body seems to slump then. A guttural whine starts at the back of his throat and gets louder as his mouth opens wider. His eyes squeeze shut, forcing the liquid to roll out the corners. His entire face turns a dark red and his torso falls forward, legs shifting to accommodate, as he lets out a long, loud wail that breaks the dam. He starts crying uncontrollably. Bent forward, chest heaving. Clumps of hair fall to shield the sides of his face. His body has gone boneless, his whole frame shaking violently as torrents of tears pour out of his eyes, snot dripping from his nose, saliva running out his open mouth.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">All the while, Madison and Ainsley are rubbing at his back, his arms, petting through his hair. Anything they can do to soothe and comfort him without interrupting the process. They both recognize that what’s happening is somehow vastly important. To stop it would cause damage. It’s not a coincidence that he asked them both to stay tonight. The two of them together can accommodate this, can allow for this, can help him through to the other side of this.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">They encourage him on with their touch and their words. “That’s it. Let it all go. It’s OK. Let it out. You’re doing great. You’re safe.“ They look at each other across his heaving back, their own faces crumpled in tears, hearts aching in witness to his agony.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The scene plays out forever. How can anybody have so much water inside of them? The floor beneath him is puddled with his expulsions. He leans further forward, face almost touching the ground, his good hand clenches into a fist, raising up and then crashing down hard into the floor again and again, needing yet another outlet for the pain that threatens to overtake him. His wailing gets louder until he is howling.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">And then just like that, everything stops. There is silence in the room. Only his heaving breaths filling the air, diminishing in intensity. His head lists to the side until it is resting against Ainsley’s thighs. His swollen red eyelids close, eyelashes dark and wet against the puffed up skin beneath them. Ainsley smooths her hand over his hair again and again, seeing how his cheeks shine with wet. His breath becomes deep and steady as he falls into a blessedly dreamless sleep.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Bed</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p2">The two women are still crying softly. “I hate this,” says Madison.</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">Ainsley squints at her. “Imagine how <em>he</em> feels.”</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">“What? No- I meant, I hate this for <em>him</em>.” Madison is a little pissed off that she has to clarify that, but she doesn’t say anything. They’ve been through enough tonight. If she can avoid any squabbling, she will.</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">“I can’t stay in this position forever.“</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">“Be right back.“ Madison gets up off the floor to retrieve a pillow from Malcolm‘s bed. The two women perform the delicate operation of moving his head from Ainsley‘s thighs to the pillow without waking him. Not that that’s much of a possibility right now. He’s dead to the world.</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">Madison goes into the bathroom to splash cold water on her face. She retrieves some hand towels and washcloths from the closet, wetting down the washcloths with cold water and ringing them out so they don’t drip. She hands one to <span class="s1">Ainsley</span>. One of them she uses to clean up the bodily fluids still glistening on the floor. She dries the area as thoroughly as she can, hoping there isn’t any damage done to the beautiful hardwood. With another cold washcloth, she gently wipes Malcolm’s face and eyelids, flips the cloth inside itself so it’s clean and still cold, and drapes that over his eyes as best she can, hoping to bring down some of the swelling. Figures about 10 minutes to leave that in place. Then she pulls a plush blanket from one of the chairs and carefully drapes it over him.</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">“Did you want to finish the movie? Should we just go to bed?” asked <span class="s1">Ainsley</span>.</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">Madison shrugs, “The movie kind of sucked anyway. And I’m exhausted.“</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2"><em>“Right?“ </em>says Ainsley, relieved, “I haven’t felt this tired in a while, and I’ve put some all-nighters in recently. Ainsley gets to work taking the food from the coffee table to the refrigerator and then arranging sheets, blanket, and pillow on the couch.</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">Madison grabs a couple more blankets. She doubles them up for cushioning and lays them over the hard floor next to Malcolm. She wishes they were able to roll him onto the blanket somehow or get him to his bed. He’ll probably wake up with sore spots. She adds a pillow to the mix and carefully arranges herself around his sleeping form, pulling the blanket laying on top of him so that it covers both of them.</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2"><span class="s1">Ainsley</span> comes out from the bathroom and asks, “You’re sleeping on the floor? Are you sure you want to do that? You could take the bed. If he wakes up in the middle of the night, he’ll probably move to the bed anyway.“</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">“I know. I just feel like – I don’t want him to be alone. Even while he’s sleeping. I don’t know what kinds of dreams he’s going to be having tonight, but I just don’t want him to be alone.“</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">•••••••••••••••</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">Madison is woken up by Malcolm’s low groans and sleep-bound kicks. From the quality of the light coming through the windows, she guesses it’s around 5 AM. That means he must’ve been asleep for almost 5 hours. Better than most days, for him. A few times in the past, she has been able to soothe him back to sleep without waking him just by rubbing his upper arm and speaking to him softly to remind him where he is. But not today. It appears that his dreaming condition is escalating. She presses her body as close to his as possible so he won’t have any leverage to hurt her if he starts flailing and does her level best to wake him before the nightmare does.</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">His eyes fly open and he tries scrambling backwards, but his efforts are stymied by the back of the couch. The panic on his face is growing, and he’s gotten his cast arm free from between their bodies, raising it up. That’s going to hurt if it comes down, and she knows this could get ugly if she doesn’t snap him out of it. She shakes his shoulder hard and yells in his face. Thankfully, it works. His eyes dart around him, trying to figure out where he is. It takes a little time for him to recognize anything from the floor behind his couch, but he finally does. And then he sees her and starts remembering the previous night.</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">“I’m awake,“ he says hoarsely, grabbing at her to pull her closer and curling his body downward to bury his face into her shoulder. She holds him tight, gripping at his hair. <em>Please don’t start crying again,</em> she thinks, but the thought is directed at herself.</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">“I’m going to relocate to your bed,“ she says. “How about you come with me. Maybe you can still get a little more sleep in. You need as much as possible so your body can heal.“</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">“OK,“ he says. They untangle from one another and he hoists himself up, groaning. His body is not happy from laying on the floor all night. He makes a trip to the bathroom first before heading to bed. She follows suit.</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">He doesn’t bother with the restraints. It’s unlikely that he’ll fall back to sleep, but he’s trying to please her. She did just spend the majority of the night putting up with his absolute bullshit. His stomach knots and his eyes are threatening to fill up, but he wills it away. She’ll be out of the bathroom soon, and the last thing he wants is for her to have to watch him cry again.</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">Madison climbs over him to lay against his good hand side and snuggles up next to him, slinging one arm over his chest, pressing her forehead into his shoulder. She needs to get at least two more hours if she wants to feel human. Four, if she wants to feel good. She’s hoping he’ll just drift off again. No such luck.</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">“My eyes hurt,“ he says, voice flat. He’s on his back with his head turned slightly away from her. As if he doesn’t want her to see his face.</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">“Of course they do. When we get up, I’ll make us some tea and you can put the teabags on them.“</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">“Does that actually work?“</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">“If you use black tea. The tannins bring the swelling down.“</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">“OK.“ He is sounding a little robotic, and that scares her.</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">“Do you want some ice, excuse me, <em>bag of peas,</em> to put on them now?” She’s willing to stave off sleep for a little longer, if she can get him more comfortable. She makes a mental note to buy him some actual ice packs. Lord knows he hurts himself often enough, it will be a good investment.</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">“Yeah.“ He makes a move to get up, but she stops him with her hand.</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">“Just lay there and relax. I’ll get it.“</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">“You’ve done too much for me already.“</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">“That’s what I’m here for, silly. When you’re 100% again, I’ll let you do all kinds of things for me. Deal?“</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">“Deal.“ He says relaxing back into the mattress.</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">When she leaves the bed, he shivers against her absence, and he’s teetering on tears again. He allows for a few giant sobs, arm slung across his battered eyes, hoping to regain his composure before her return.</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">Madison can hear him from the kitchen, and it makes her want to fall apart right there at the fridge. But she has got to stay strong for him. The last thing he needs right now is to be trying to comfort her on his behalf. She stands there a moment to compose herself before reaching for the peas and then goes to get a towel. She envies Ainsley, snoring softly away on the couch. That one is not getting up anytime soon.</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">When she returns to the bed, he’s exactly as she left him. She perches by his side, folding and draping the towel over his eyes first as a buffer and then carefully laying the bag of peas on top. Then she heads around to the other side so she can climb in next to him again. He sighs softly from the relief of the cold pressure. Takes up her hand in his, tangling their fingers together. There’s a great rift inside of him threatening to engulf him.</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">“You should go home. And Ainsley, too. You shouldn’t be here.”</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">His physical body has been healing nicely, but God, he hurts so much. He wants the mattress to open up and swallow him whole. He wants to dissolve into the air and never be again. He wants to die. He is only a receptacle for other people’s sadistic acts. A thing for them to visit their pain and sickness upon his flesh and mind. Malcolm Bright is fake. With his chipper voice and a spring in his step. A cardboard cut out designed to assuage other people’s pity and guilt. His mom is right. Bright is a stupid name, anyway. Malcolm Bright doesn’t exist, and Malcolm Whitly was killed years ago.</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2"><em>He</em> doesn’t exist. Nobody will ever see him as his own person. He is only The Surgeon’s son. Only and ever The Surgeon’s son.</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">Panic flutters in Madison’s chest at his words and the stilted way he says them. Like something mechanical that appears organic. Tentatively, she asks him why.</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">“I could hurt you. I could kill you.”</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">“You won’t.”</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">“You don’t know that. I couldn’t stand it if I hurt you. I was broken before. But now I’m shattered. There’s no fixing this. I’m gone. I don’t exist.”</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">“No, no, no, no, sweetheart, that’s not true.” She’s terrified to say the wrong thing to him, but can’t risk saying nothing at all. He’s so fragile right now. And she’s been known for being callously blunt and often misinterpreted under the best of circumstances.</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p4">She slides their entwined hands to rest directly over his heart.</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p4">“You do exist. You are right here, right now. You didn’t deserve what happened to you. Not the first time and not this time. And you are not broken. Life fucks everybody up to varying degrees, but most people never experience the level of horror that you have. And you are still functioning. Which tells me that you are stronger than any of us. The only thing broken here is your thumb, and that is already healing. I know you don’t feel like it right now, but you are a whole, complete person. <em>You are a whole, complete person.</em></p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p4">“Can you not. Try to make me feel better. I don’t deserve to feel better.”</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p4">She opens her mouth to protest, and then makes a hasty retreat to the bathroom. He knows she’s in there crying and is amazed that he can suddenly feel worse than he did.<em> I’m such a fucking asshole,</em> hethinks, shaking his head sadly. He supposes he’ll have to apologize to her eventually, but he doesn’t have it in him right now.</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p4">Ainsley has probably already surpassed her nurturing limit for the week. Most she’ll do later today is fix him some breakfast that he’ll only eat half of before she goes back to her life. Maybe he’ll call Dani. She would definitely come take care of him, but it would be the same damn thing. She would feel obligated, and he would feel like shit, and she wouldn’t even be getting paid for it this time. Maybe he should just suck it up and stay with Mom for the week. At least it’s actually her job to take care of him, and he wouldn’t feel like such a god damn burden on everyone around him.</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p4">Madison collects herself and goes to the kitchen to pour a glass of water before returning to his bedside. “Drink this. You need to rehydrate.” Reluctantly, he pushes himself up on the bed just far enough to accommodate swallowing. He puts his hand around the glass, but his grip is so listless that she’s afraid to let go and helps him tilt it up to his mouth, her other hand supporting his back. She’s relieved to watch him down the entire thing. She takes the glass from him, and he lets himself fall back flat.</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p4">“I’m going home. Call me when you want to.” She gives his arm a squeeze and pets his hair, hopefully conveying that she is still 100% on his side, but she’s had enough for now. She feels like a selfish bitch. What happened to that infinite patience she is so famous for? She knows that he won’t do anything stupid as long as Ainsley is there, so there’s that. She also knows she will be calling him in another couple of hours. Not like she can get anything done today for worrying about him.</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p4">He can’t look at her. Turns to the window so he doesn’t have to see her face. It takes her a moment to take her hand off his hair and walk away. He hears her pull the door shut behind her. He starts to cry again. He knows he will probably be calling her in a few more hours, begging forgiveness, pleading his case for her to come back and help him. He hates that he realizes he can take advantage of her caring nature. He wishes he was stronger than that. It’s just that right now, he’s really, really not.</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p4">
  <em>You are a whole, complete person.</em>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p4">He plays that line over in his head a few times. What complete and utter bullshit. He prays with all his might that someday he will actually believe it.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This is my first attempt at an Original Character. I hope Madison is doing ok here. I'm hyper-aware of not making her a Mary Sue. Would love comments on this aspect, if you notice anything, good or bad. Thanks.</p><p>Also, I just love comments in general, including criticisms, and welcome corrections to grammar and spelling errors.</p><p>June 2020 note:<br/>The PS Muse is super-strong these days. Hit me up with a prompt, if you'd like. Anything involving Malcolm Bright and / or Ainsley Whitly.<br/>(Brother/Sistercest is fine, but I won't do parent/child incest. )</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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